


Harry is picking up your order

by fouruku



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Delivery Boy Potter, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fouruku/pseuds/fouruku
Summary: At the end of his shift, Harry accepts an order and regrets it almost immediately. But then, he definitely doesn't.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 118





	Harry is picking up your order

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Harry is picking up your order](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788631) by [fouruku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fouruku/pseuds/fouruku). 



> Hello guys ~  
> Just another translated fic of mine :)  
> Hope possible mistakes won't worry you.  
> ♥

"You have 1 unread message from _Draco_ ".

Harry let go of the handlebar and tried to peer at the phone screen — it was almost midnight, and it seemed like the rain could start anytime. He vowed to himself that he would never take orders after 11 PM again. And this _Draco_ guy was just lucky to request Harry when he was right at the required place, and the destination was something like fifteen minutes away. Of course, if you pedal a little faster and hope the elements don't catch you off guard. Tossing slightly damp strands from his forehead, Harry opened a chat.

" _Harry, can you grab a bottle of rum? Please. The store is in the neighboring house — I'll send the address. Paying extra._ "

Excuse me?

Harry snorted. This guy appeared in his life twenty minutes ago, and it will take only twenty minutes more for him to disappear forever, but he has _already_ managed to bother him.

First, his name. Seeing _Draco_ in the order details, Harry thought he would have to trudge to some pompous London district. It was too fancy and aristocratic in all the ways possible. Harry wasn't a big fan of that types of guys — they always looked at him appraisingly and even with some disguise, and, damn it, they never left a tip! 

Well, Harry was relieved to find this assumption to be wrong — at least, considering Draco's address.

But then — the order itself. It was a Friday night, and he was about to deliver fast food to someone named _Draco_? Harry has already delivered so many unbelievable cakes, gourmet dishes, and unreasonably expensive drinks from fancy restaurants that such a request seemed quite strange. Besides, the package itself was too light. The rain (damn it!) and his glasses were making it harder for Harry to see the road properly, and he could only hope that he wasn't suffering all this way for the sake of a bloody cheeseburger and french fries. And here we are, rum! You don't say. On the other hand, he didn't have much choice (and was promised a tip, though).

" _OK_ "

Harry put his phone away and pressed on — still hoping for being lucky enough to get home by subway.

***

He was soaking wet and was cursing everything in the bloody world while going up to the right floor: his (unbidden) initiative, this (stupid) work, (damned) weather, (overpriced) rum, and even this (undoubtedly, arsehole) Draco. The only pleasant thing was that tomorrow is his well-deserved day-off. Of course, if he could, Harry would not have seen a bike at least for a week.

Fatigue was manifesting itself by the end of the day, so Harry even had to take a few deep breaths before pressing the bell button.

Okay, it was not some kind of manor or a great country house, but even looking at the staircase, Harry could feel the irritating energy of high prices. Large windows, well-painted walls, beautiful marble tiles underfoot. And there was Harry, in his well-worn sneakers, standing in all this beauty and watching as a small puddle of rainwater spreading under his feet.

Finally, footsteps and the clinking of keys were heard. Harry decided to get ready right away, so when the door opened, he had already managed to get the ill-fated paper bag and a small bottle from his backpack. What a _Gentleman's set_.

Harry examined the guy in front of him and even frowned at the dissonance of the actual person and his image in Harry’s head.

 _Draco_ turned out to be a tall and blond guy, barely older than Harry. Of course, his appearance still was reflecting his status in some way — he was wearing a sand-colored and definitely high-quality shirt with rolled-up sleeves and trousers that were too formal for Friday night of an average man. Let alone the aristocratic tone of his skin — Harry's own face and arms were covered with a slight tan because of his summer day shifts. He looked down and chuckled — oh, how lovely — Draco was wearing fluffy green slippers. Okay, maybe he wasn't _that_ pompous after all.

“Draco?”

“Harry?”

They spoke, and the corners of Draco's lips lifted slightly. Harry could now notice that he looked slightly tired.

"Your order," Harry spoke first, handing the bag and bottle to Draco. “I just need your sign in the application.”

"Oh, yup. Of course. You deserve those five stars, young lad."

He took the package and put everything on something that seemed to be a small table in the hallway. 

"Well, I see you had a rough go," he waved his hand vaguely, clearly meaning Harry's rain-darkened hoodie and dirty Converse. Harry snorted, thumbing through the app menu. _Really? No way!_

"Umm ..." he drawled, "It actually says 'payment on delivery' and-"

"Oh, right, forgot about that thing. Wait a second".

Draco almost disappeared behind the door, but immediately looked out. 

"Listen… Come on in, or what? It wouldn't be nice of me to make you stand there".

Harry hesitated. The floor was already covered in his wet footprints, his hair was dripping, and some drops were sliding down his spine. Draco seemed to read his mind.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not that much of a neat freak. Come in. I'll go find my wallet." 

With these words, he opened the door wider, inviting Harry to enter the apartment. There was no even a sign of self-preservation instinct.

The apartment was pleasantly warm and dry. But, damn it, there wasn’t enough light, that's for sure and certain.

Harry could not resist the opportunity to relax at least for two minutes, so he sat down on a small pouf. An elegant lamp against the wall was covering everything around in light tones. Harry noticed a brighter light somewhere further down the hallway — probably it was coming from one of the rooms. He heard the quiet muttering of the telly.

"Nature is really going crazy out there, you know. Did you get here on foot?" 

Draco's voice was coming from the depths of the apartment. Harry heard footsteps, shelves being opened, and papers rustling. May the force be with him – maybe, _maybe_ he could still make it to the subway just in time. If only this crank hadn't fumbled.

"Bicycle," he snapped, noticing that he was shaking his right leg nervously. "Left it downstairs, with the concierge."

There was no answer. Harry felt the vibration and took a phone out of his pocket.

 **(12:04AM) Ron**  


_r u ok mate? Hermione is worried a bit, it's shitty outside._

**(12:04AM) Harry**  


_Delivered the last one. Any beer left?_

Lord, how tired he was. It was nice to sit like this — somewhere dry and cozy, with semi-darkness that seem to become rather comforting. Harry glanced at the delivered package and felt his stomach rumble. And he was absolutely sure Hermione brought something tasty again. All that got Harry worked up even more. He bailed on being polite and decided to go and make Draco _move_.

He found him standing in the living room, staring at the screen. Harry just wished for it not to be the news.

_"... the Highbury and Islington ticket counters are flooded, the station is closed, Victoria trains continue to run past it. Clapham Junction is underwater on the London Overground line. Please, stay at home or follow safety measures if you happen to be outside…"_

"For fuck's sake," Harry cursed, distracting Draco. He froze with a wallet in his hands.

"Oh, you're here," he looked at several wet footprints left in the corridor. "Seems like you're fucked up, though."

"Excuse me?"

Harry's look and tone were rather hostile. He was hungry and exhausted, and now, he was left even without an appropriate opportunity to get home — all because of this bastard and his stupid slippers.

Draco stepped closer and handed him a couple of notes.

"Here are pay and you tip, but… Look, are you really going to get home like… _now_? Also, that bike of yours..."

Harry chuckled.

"Oh, I didn't mention my broom? Always carry it around, just in case. Maybe I should use it instead, thank you very much.”

"You didn't get it," Draco sighed. "You could wait for the rain to calm down…here? Jokes aside. It's insane out there, and I've got a living room with a sofa, and you actually took care of some food. You can stay. I don't mind it, really."

Harry stumbled for a second. It was a Friday night, he was on the other side of London in the apartment of an absolute stranger. But Lord, fuck it. The rain will probably over in an hour or two. He could deal with it. Plus, they've got rum. So, why not?

***

_That's fucking why_ , Harry thought as Draco laughed again, throwing his head back slightly and exposing his bare neck even more.

"... No, really — she acts as if I'm ready to snog every single trainee we hire! That was only once, honestly. And now, they don't want to give those guys a probationary period in my team," Draco chuckled carelessly.

Even after something about an hour and a half, the rain still hadn't stopped, but they were through the half a bottle of rum. Draco turned out to be a nice guy (definitely a gay one, although Harry was trying not to focus on that point too much) who "was in the mood today" to order some cheeseburger in pair with an expensive beverage. At least, now, he was ready to admit being completely mental at that mooment.

But the _thing_ was…While talking about everyday routine and sharing funny stories about office, Draco managed to unbutton his shirt a little, and now, Harry found himself being distracted a lot. Harry took off his wet hoodie as well, and his Rolling Stones t-shirt was making the contrast between him and Draco even more noticeable.

"So, what about that friend of yours, Ron? Did you message him?"

"Oh shit, right. Although… I don't think he is that much worried while Hermione is around, but ..."

Thoughts about his friends distracted Harry from an actual staring, but then he saw that Draco was looking at him as if waiting for an explanation.

"Hermione is a friend of ours. We've been together since middle school. And Ron and I are actually roommates now.

" _Been together_ — are you like ...?" 

Draco didn't finish the question, hiding a grin behind his glass. Even despite the relaxing effect of rum, such a question made Harry sit straight in surprise and stare seriously at Draco.

"Oh Lord, you're insane, aren't you? Yes, they are the best people in the whole world, no doubt, but _no_ , we don't. However, ... I don't have a habit of hiding the fact that I can play on both sides of the pitch."

 _You don't need to be so bold and obvious, you know that, right?_ But, unfortunately, Harry hadn't a habit of listening to his inner voice as well.

"But Ron and Hermione… we've been through so much shit. They are like family to me."

Draco looked at him searchingly, and the two of them laughed slightly.

"That's nice. I have no one but my parents. In my family, I mean. There was an aunt, but she was completely mad. Mother just cut all ties with her when I was seventeen. Do you want me to…?" he pointed on Harry's glass.

Harry nodded affirmatively. Now, he thought that Draco's apartment was even more than cozy — at least those parts of it that he had seen, even if it were only the kitchen and living room. 

God, he definitely should write to Ron.

"Can I…ehm. I'll be back in ten minutes, okay?" he asked, taking his phone out of his pocket.

"Sure. The restroom is down the hall and to the left."

Draco smiled softly and turned his head back to the telly.

***

He was walking down the corridor with a feeling of slight tension in his lower abdomen. Was Draco attractive? Definitely. Did he notice the way Harry was staring at him too much? It was still a question. However, he had to rinse his face with cool water to stop dwelling on these issues so much.

In the snow-white bathroom, everything was arranged on the shelves and almost screamed about how organized and neat the landlord can be. Leaning against the washing machine, Harry took his cell phone, trying not to imagine Draco standing right there, with only a towel around his thighs, wiping the misted mirror and brushing wet hair out of his face. How easy it would be for drops of water to slide down his long neck, gathering at the collarbones.

**(01:32AM)Harry:**  


_It's almost 2 AM, and still no worried messages from you?_

**(01:32AM) Harry:**  


_Ok, guess Hermione is staying. For heaven's sake, remember the last time and don't let it happen again. I don't want to blush while listening from Mrs. Figg about how tired she was because of a sleepless night full of knocks and rumblings._

**(01:34AM) Harry:**  


_I'm fine, btw. Got a place to stay._

Of course, he didn't hope for an answer. At least, now. Harry tousled his hair and looked at the mirror. Light but noticeable blush was covering his cheeks, and he tried not to think about its cause. Draco was just a nice guy, friendly enough to give Harry a chance to stay safe and dry.

He left the bathroom and listened to the sounds around. There was music from some silly tv-show coming from the living room, and he could even hear Draco's rare smirks. It was still raining, but much calmer. 

To his right, there was an entrance to what Harry thought could be a master's bedroom, and a faint light was slightly spreading from behind the door. Curiosity often played a joke on him, but here, Harry couldn't resist it at all – just one minute won't hurt anyone, right?

He opened the door slowly, being afraid to frighten the mystery away.

Draco's room was simple and minimalistic. The bed, which Harry tried to ignore, was covered with a burgundy bedspread, and on a desk, among papers and books, there was a photograph of a young couple. Harry came closer and assumed that were Draco's parents — a young man with almost white hair up to his shoulders, hugging an incredibly beautiful woman. They smiled so sincerely that something shrank in Harry's chest.

But most of all, of course, he liked the lamp on the chest of drawers — a source of that pleasant whitish light. A small ball in the shape of a moon was giving the room a cool shade, but at the same time, provided an incomprehensible lightness to the soul.

Harry looked down at slightly opened drawers. Realizing he was staring at Draco's folded underwear, he looked away. There was a greenish tie hanging from on one of the handles, and Harry couldn't resist taking it and stroking the smooth fabric with his fingers.

"People usually ask permission for things like that, especially at a stranger's room," said a voice behind him.

Harry immediately got goosebumps, even though Draco's tone was rather calm — his sudden appearance made him flinch slightly. He dropped the tie and cleared his throat.

"Um, I'm sorry, I was just ..."

"That's alright," Draco cut him off. He was standing with his arms folded on his chest, one of them holding a glass of half-finished rum. "I kind of noticed that you like to ... have a good look."

Harry cursed the tension in his lower abdomen three times, and this time there was no point in denying it — that was excitement, arousal. He breathed in to answer something or even to make an excuse but realized that there was nothing to say. Draco, in turn, took another sip and came too close to Harry, making him to stand motionless between Draco and the drawer. He watched Draco placing the glass next to the lamp and looked up and into the blonde's eyes. Due to the lighting, they looked even more contrasting and blueish. He could feel the warmth radiating from Draco's body, so close he was. It would be the peak of childishness — to look for any excuses now.

"You're so handsome," Harry breathed, and his own courage spread in a pleasant wave through his body. "It's quite a challenge — not to look at you."

Draco smiled, looking away for a second before meeting Harry's eyes again. His one hand was still resting on the drawers, and with the other, he reached up to Harry's face and took off his glasses, putting them in his back pocket. Harry thought it would be foolish to argue here as well, but his last thoughts vanished in a flash as Draco leaned over and spoke, almost touching his left ear with soft lips.

"Can say the same about you, Harry. So open-minded and honest, but as if… unapproachable. And so ... _soft,_ ” he kissed Harry's ear lightly and got a heavy exhale in response. "Do you mind?"

Oh, Harry definitely didn't mind. Draco was like a magnet, and he wanted more. He raised his arms and slowly ran them along Draco's sides, pulling him closer — it was a damn pleasure to touch him, hug him.

"No, I ... can I?"

Their lips were so, _so_ close, and Harry felt stupid about asking a question like that. But, he didn't even need to wait for an answer — Draco kissed him first.

At first, it felt as if Harry was trying to taste his lips — rum and something sweet. But it quickly became more confident and passionate, and here he was — biting slightly on Draco's lower lip, wanting to moan because of Draco's heavy breath.

"Oh god ...", Draco breathed and pushed Harry towards the dresser. 

Now, their kiss was persistent and hungry, and the moisture of Draco's mouth as well as moves of his tongue were so pleasant that Harry didn't know whether it was possible to stop at all. His hands were already stroking the warm body under Draco's shirt when he heard the click of his own belt buckle. Oh shit. From this sound alone, his cock tensed immediately.

Harry raised his arms and cupped Draco's face, pulling away from his lips reluctantly. They were both breathing heavily, their eyes both wet and full of desire.

"I…can't stop," Harry said and pressed his lips to Draco's bare neck, trying to go lower and lower, burying his fingers in soft blonde hair. 

"You don't have to."

The taste on his tongue was mixed with sweat and cologne, and Harry felt Draco pulling his jeans down a little, leaving them somewhere at his hips.

They looked into each other's eyes again, their bodies pressed against each other, both fully clothed, which was even more provoking and unbearably hot. Harry could feel Draco's cock pushing against his thigh as he mirrored the question he had already asked today.

"Can I?"

Without waiting for an answer, Draco knelt down slowly. To stay on his feet firmly, Harry leaned on the drawers, throwing his head back in pleasure.

Anything. He was ready to allow Draco to do _anything_.

***

**(08:03AM) Ron:**

_Hope for a cutie, though. Just warn me if he comes by too — Hermione is about to bake a pie :)_

**Author's Note:**

> It will be nice to know what you think.  
> Also, I would be grateful for any recommendations regarding the language and some editorial tips. But please, be nice ~


End file.
